


What Did You Do Today?

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: Tom Petty (Musician)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Could you do a Tom Petty Imagine that’s just super fluffy and cuddly after the reader has had a really long day and they’re both exhausted but still have the energy for each other?'Sure can! Adorable fluffy sleepiness.





	What Did You Do Today?

_Bam_.

You jump out of your half-sleep, peeling your face from the sofa; you’re pretty sure you’ve drooled onto it, and as you examine the cushion and the leather for any tell-tale signs of saliva, you see Tom appear in the doorway.

“Mmmmhi,” you croak, and he smiles at you, before sitting down on the arm of the couch and reaching over, stroking your hair.

“You tired, sweetheart?” he asks fondly, and you nod. “Same here. Sit up.”

You do so, very unwillingly, and he slides down next to you, before pulling your head back onto his knee and winding his fingers through your hair; your eyes flutter shut again, and you breathe slowly, feeling the warmth of his fingers on your scalp as you drift a little. The silence of the house is calming, the heat soaking through to your bones like a hot bath, and you lie there, almost asleep again, until a kiss lands gently on the side of your face and you squirm, giggling.

“Heyyy.” You push him, weakly, and he grins, before bending down to kiss your cheek again. “Quit iiiiit.”

“No way.” He sighs, and begins to stroke your hair again. “How was your day, honey?” You shrug noncommittally. “Oh, come on. You haven’t just napped all day, have you?”

“Might have,” you yawn, and he strokes your stomach, smiling warmly. “How was recording, baby? Break any hearts?” He pokes you gently, and you grin, rolling over to look up at him. “You’re so handsome.”

“And you’re so pretty. Actually, I broke a microphone by being clumsy, so… it was a good day,” he says; there’s humour in his voice, so you assume he isn’t too upset. “My fault.” You shake your head, and he strokes your cheek. “So what did you do?”

“Didn’t break a mic, that’s for sure,” you tease back affectionately. “I actually pretty much just planned what we’re having for dinner.”

“Well done-”

“For the next six months. I was really hungry,” you confess, and he snorts with laughter. “Okay, maybe not that far, but I did that, and then some writing…”

“You gonna actually let me read this?” he asks in amusement, and you pause a moment. “Oh, come on…!” His fingers slide over your ribs, tickling you through your t-shirt, and you yelp, struggling for a moment. “Come on. You hear my music…”

“I don’t get much choice,” you say, playfully, and he pouts a little, before smiling again. “Okay. But you have to read it like a  _reader_. Not like… a creative.”

“Gotcha, sweetheart.” He sighs. “Okay. Sit up again.” You do so. “Scoot forward a little.” You do that as well, and he pulls his legs up behind you before pulling you close to lie down with him. “Now, we’re gonna take a little nap, and then we’re going to look at whatever you have planned for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Are we?” you asked, and he nuzzles his head into your shoulder; you close your eyes, still smiling, and as you drift off to the sound of Tom’s breathing and the warm weight of his hand on your hip, you decide to tell him that tonight’s plan is take-out pizza later.


End file.
